It passed... the memory remained.
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When feelings tremble at the threshold of the word "returned," when the days whisper to us that we are still children, when memory sobs with longing for a time that will never return, and we feel a sense of belonging to the world of cartoons and their warm theme songs. When we feel alienated on our own planet, and try in vain to decipher the philosophy of places, we discover that we possessA space-age passport that allows us to travel through time, so we realize then that we are still searching for the wonder of the cartoon television screen, that we suffer from a syndrome difficult to comprehend, and that there is a pang that haunts us under the sway of nostalgia and the scepter of memories, a pang that whispers in our ears that the days of childhood have passed, but their memory has remained with us throughout the years of this life.
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50.00 Ð
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It passed... the memory remained.
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50.00 Ð
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50.00 Ð
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0.00 Ð
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